


Sweater

by SylvanFreckles



Series: Twelve Days of Fictmas 2020 [10]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Hank is a troll, Humor, Ugly Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28251930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanFreckles/pseuds/SylvanFreckles
Summary: Monroe gives Nick a Truly Awful (tm) Christmas sweater. Juliette tries to make him wear it with no luck...until Hank steps in.
Relationships: Nick Burkhardt & Hank Griffin, Nick Burkhardt & Monroe, Nick Burkhardt & Rosalee Calvert, Nick Burkhardt/Juliette Silverton, Rosalee Calvert/Monroe
Series: Twelve Days of Fictmas 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055069
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Sweater

Nick settled onto the couch, coffee in hand, as Juliette and Monroe's chatter from the kitchen filled the air. “Thanks for this,” he commented, gesturing at the space around them.

Rosalee, curled up at the other end of the couch, raised her eyebrows in question. “For...dinner?”

“No,” Nick shook his head with a grin and waved his hand to indicate Monroe's heavily-decorated home. “ _This_. I know you're not big into the Christmas stuff, but it means a lot to Monroe.”

“Oh,” Rosalee nodded. “Well, it's important to him. And I think it's...growing on me,” she added with a shrug.

“Like athlete's foot.”

“Nick!” Rosalee, pretending to be shocked, kicked his hip. “That's rude.”

“He took Juliette to some artisan market last week,” Nick complained dramatically. “My house is full of Poinsettias now. And you should see the nativity creche she brought home.”

“What about it?” Juliette asked, appearing behind the couch to lean over and wrap her arms around her boyfriend. “You told me you love it.”

“And I do,” Nick replied, leaning back to look up at her. “I was just telling Rosalee about it.”

“Uh-huh.” The red-haired woman pressed a quick kiss to Nick's temple before settling down on the arm of the couch beside him. “It's carved from driftwood,” she explained. “This adorable old man walks up and down the beaches every morning to gather it himself.”

“And he makes all his paints the old-fashioned way,” Monroe interjected. He brought out a cup of coffee for Rosalee, and a wrapped present that he handed to Nick. “All-natural plant dyes.”

Nick accepted the present and frowned at it. “What's this?”

“You're supposed to be the detective, Nick,” Monroe shook his head in mock dismay, pulling his armchair up to be closer to the trio on the couch. “It's a present.”

“We're not exchanging gifts until Christmas,” Nick protested. He and Hank were pulling the first shift on Christmas Day, and they'd agreed to all meet for drinks and dessert and gift exchanging after. Hence the early Christmas dinner with Monroe and Rosalee tonight.

“Yeah, but this is the kinda thing you want to have before Christmas,” Monroe explained. “Go on, open it.”

Nick glanced up at Juliette, who shrugged back at him, then handed her his coffee before popping the tape free on the colorful paper. There was a plain white shirt box under the paper, and inside the box...

“Oh, how cute!” Juliette exclaimed. “It's a Christmas sweater!”

It _was_ a Christmas sweater, if only because it couldn't be called anything else. There was tinsel. There were snowmen. There was a big, coca-cola Santa with one finger to his lips and one leg in a chimney. It was red. And green. And gold. And silver. And _horrible_.

“Juliette said you didn't have a Christmas sweater,” Monroe offered helpfully, nodding at the abomination in Nick's lap. At the other end of the couch Rosalee had a fist in her mouth to muffle her laughter, and Juliette was practically cooing over how cute she thought the sweater was.

“Oh. I, uh...thanks, Monroe,” Nick worked up a smile for his friend and tried to close the box back up. “I'll just...put it away...”

“Try it on, Nick,” Rosalee teased, nearly shaking in suppressed laughter.

Before he could answer (and, really, what could he say) his phone started to ring. Nick shot to his feet, barely remembering to be gentle as he placed the sweater on the couch. “I'd better get that,” he explained, pulling his phone out and hurrying out of the room.

“You did that on purpose!” Juliette called after him.

* * *

“It's supposed to be cold today,” Juliette commented as she scrolled through her phone.

“It's Portland,” Nick replied. He managed to slide the sunny-side up eggs onto the toast without breaking the yolk and placed the plate in front of Juliette with a flourish. “It's cold here nine months of the year.”

“I'm just saying, you should dress warm today,” she said. “Extra layers.”

“No,” Nick pointed his fork at her. “No, I am not wearing that sweater.”

“I've seen you wear worse to the office,” she protested. “It would mean so much to Monroe.”

“He wouldn't even see me wear it,” he shook his his head and cut through the yolk of his eggs.

“I'd send him pictures.”

“Then definitely not. Those pictures would end up in Hank's phone, too. Then they'd someone end up on Wu's, then the rest of the department would see it. No.”

Juliette sighed and propped her chin in one hand, watching him eat breakfast. “It's a really nice sweater, Nick.”

“Yeah? Then you wear it.”

“No way.”

* * *

“Nick?” Juliette hurried into the precinct, tote bag in hand. “Nick, are you okay?”

He greeted her with a smile, taking her hand as she got closer. “Perp got a nosebleed on me. Can't walk around looking like that all day.”

“I thought you kept a spare shirt in your locker,” she commented, handing him the bag. “Why did you ask me to bring you a new one?”

“This _was_ my spare,” he explained. He dumped me in a snowbank first and I got soaked. Thanks for bringing this by.”

Nick opened the bag and grabbed a handful of...knitting? He tugged just enough out of the bag to recognize the red-green-gold-silver of the Abominable Christmas Sweater before stuffing it back in and shoving the bag into Juliette's arms. “No.”

He knew Hank's locker combo anyway. His partner wouldn't mind.

* * *

“Merry Christmas!” Hank boomed out, wrapping his arms around Juliette when she answered the door. “Is your worse half ready for the day yet?”

“Merry Christmas, Hank,” Juliette laughed when he set her down and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “He's ready, but he's not in the spirit.”

“No, Juliette!” Nick trotted down the stairs, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt on his way to the kitchen for his travel mug of coffee. “I'm still not wearing it.”

“Not wearing what?”

“Monroe gave him a Christmas sweater,” Juliette whispered. She'd left it hidden in the tote bag next to the door, and opened it up enough that he could see the gaudy fabric inside. “I've been trying to get him to wear it for _days_.”

Hank blew out a low whistle. He glanced up to make sure Nick wasn't watching and stuffed the tote bag into his jacket. “Leave it to me,” he winked.

“Leave what to you?” Nick asked, joining them near the door.

“Getting you safely to work and back home for Christmas,” Hank replied smoothly. “Now let's go, partner, let's go!”

* * *

“Why is it the one call we get I end up in a snowbank again?” Nick complained. Christmas was usually fairly quiet, even for a city as big as Portland, and they'd been lucky to only have one call-out this year. Just a possible homicide that had turned out to be a staged protest by a vegan group against some sort of community turkey-frying party.

“Hey, if you ain't got the moves, you're gonna end up in a few snowbanks,” Hank replied, leaning against his locker. “You ready?”

“I don't think I have a change of clothes in here,” Nick complained. “You mind stopping by my place on the way to Monroe's?”

“No need,” Hank announced, stepping back and swinging the door of his locker open to reveal the Abominable Christmas Sweater in all its gaudy glory.

“You...” Nick spluttered for words for a moment. “You did this on purpose!” he accused, shaking the damp fabric of his button-down shirt. “You...you _traitor_!”

“I don't think you want to say that to the man that has Sergeant Wu on speed-dial.”

Nick tried to glare at him, but Hank just gestured to the sweater and bowed. “Well?”

With a sigh of frustration Nick whipped off his wet shirt and tugged the Abominable Christmas Sweater over his head. It was warm, at least. Not too scratchy. And when he was wearing it he barely noticed how badly the colors clashed. “Happy now?” he asked, arms spread out for Hank's appraisal.

“Ecstatic,” Hank retorted, slamming his locker shut. “Now let's get out of here before Monroe forgets to spike the eggnog.”

Rolling his eyes, Nick followed his partner out of the locker room. At least there was no one else here to witness his embarrassment...

“Hey, Burkhardt! Nice sweater!”

**Author's Note:**

> Just two more days! Can you believe it?
> 
> Next time: Star - “This house has weathered storms a lot bigger than this; we’ll be safe until it passes.”


End file.
